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has not been sufficient to kill any of the vegetation. I found dandelions, daisies and the little wild geranium and the pastures were as green as in spring. The familiar places are changing. The woods and fields  which were devastated several years ago are beginning to hide their scars under new growths and many places looked more attractive to me today than in years before. The surroundings of the town strike me afresh this Autumn with their picturesqueness. I wish I did not mind sitting down to paint in public places for I see so many things I would like to get. - Girard came in at noon and told us Maurice was down in the carriage house in a most forlorn condition. While I was gone Sara went down and found him lying in some blankets up stairs and brought him up to his room where is now. He seemed to think we would not permit him to come here. He told her he did not know but his leg was broken, that he had fallen down the carriage house stairs. What a wretched life. Girard wrote to Skillman to inquire about him and he replied that he worked for the Times all week and on Saturday night came to him and said he thought as a stranger in the city his duties covered too much ground, and he gave up his place to Skillmans great regret, as he hoped it would soon lead to something better. I dont think he means to try to do anything more. A letter from Mary. Downing gets on very slowly and on Monday sat up half an hour. Booth cabled to him to join them, but poor fellow, he is helpless. 

Thursday Nov. 2. 1882. Went down town to do the marketing and afterwards out back of OReillys to make a drawing of trees. This afternoon I walked out where I was yesterday. It is the 28" anniversary of our wedding day and I thought I would like to spend it walking over the hills and through the woods. I found a butter cup, some wild geranium blossoms and some asters, which I gathered and put into my sketch book. I went to a place where I have never been before the top of the rocks above the brick yard beyond Steep Rocks and I walked through the woods where dear Gertrude and I gathered the last ferns we ever collected. The wind blew from the north and many leaves have fallen. I was surprised to see how much less brilliant color there is than there was yesterday. The glory is departing I presume I am in a certain way getting used to life without my dear Gertrude, yet I miss her constantly and am never without a sense of her absence, and I love her and everything connected with her with a love that grows as time goes on.

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---------- Reopened for Editing 2023-03-24 12:01:57